


In War, Victory

by LumaBoop



Series: 10 Chimes For Veterans 2015 [4]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M, Veterans Day, Veterans Day 2015
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-14
Updated: 2015-11-14
Packaged: 2018-05-01 12:37:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5206157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LumaBoop/pseuds/LumaBoop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When something seems truly right in that moment, why does it haunt the mind?<br/>4th Chime</p>
            </blockquote>





	In War, Victory

**“Fenris would have killed himself to protect me. I don’t want to give him the chance.”**

Or so the story went. Two days at Skyhold and that was the talk of the tavern and between the masonry stone. The Champion of Kirkwall was not a towering monstrosity of a man, was not a hulk beast of hair and fur who ate the Arishok, but just a man with simple humor and a selfless mentality to protect all that he could that was precious in his life.

Despite this revelations, the talk of Skyhold was Hawke's decision to let go of Fenris, who, in accordance to Dorian’s knowledge, was the talk of Tevinter in the wrong way and had gained notoriety on battlefields during the most heated parts of the Mage and Templar conflict. Having heard whispers of Fenris and his current status lit a horrible ring in Hawke's head and heart that he sought out refuge. Fenris was not the best subject for him to swallow, if ever.

Hawke sighed as he collapsed on the comfy bed within the guest chambers afforded to him as Guest of the Inquisition. He was suppose to be heading back out to protect Alistair from the Grey Wardens nipping at his heels but the man would be fine. By the Maker, he just needed a moment.

“Aaahhh.... Andraste’s hanging tits...” he rubbed the heel of his hands into his tired eyes and tried to stop the world from spinning in his head. It seemed like only yesterday when he felt the hum of the red lyrium too close for comfort to his office. The Templars, mad with the stuff, making their plans to snuff him within his own Vicount quarters. It was only by Fenris’ vigilance... and pain that he felt the negative vibrations through his blue lyrium markings.

 _“We must leave.”_ he had said.  _“Now.”_

The next day, he had stepped down and left Kirkwall to investigate why good men and women were suddenly as crazed as a nug on fire. But, he all but abandoned Fenris that night at a camp, unable to tell Fenris to stay or have the argument of him coming with him where ever his newest adventure took him.

And so he had merely left the man, the love of his life, there and moved on. That was a few months ago. And while his heart broke to pieces each time he was without his beloved, he knew this was for the best. He knew from experience what those close to him eventually ended up. It was a wonder any of his companions were still alive... but for Fenris, it would have only been a matter of time...

Everyone that he loved eventually would perish. He could not allow it to happen to Fenris. No...

“Garrett?” came the raspy call from his bedroom door, red-orange light from the sunset pouring in.

The man spiked up into sitting and stared at the silhouette, knowing it but unable to come to terms of the reality. With a dry throat and shaky tongue, he whispered the name.

“Fenris...”

The door closed and the cloak fell from the elf’s shoulders. All white hair braided at the neck and heavy eyes from not nearly enough sleep. New scars along his arms and new tunic and armor... but it was him. It was his beloved. Hawke was terrified and ecstatic, and was paralyzed by both emotions.

The elf moved over, each step soundless, callus feet padding the stone and carpet. Olive eyes focused on him on the bed, unreadable, but a certain shine that broken the semi darkness of the room was unmistakable. Fenris missed him, but more than that, he _understood_.

Standing beside the bed, Hawke shook his head and started to say the words. _I’m so sorry._

But a naked hand rose and pressed to Hawke’s lips. He all but melted at the simple contact.

“Not a word. You did what you felt you had to. I will never fault you for making choices that you believe in... despite how that may impact me.” The same voice as he knew it, if a bit scratchier from underuse. “I trust you and your decisions. And here we are...”

 _Here we are_. No templars. No mages. No demons. No politics. For once, he was no Champion and Fenris was no ex-slave. For the moment, there was no battle, no struggle. No scar in the sky. Just one man and one elf. Hawke moved faster than his brain could comprehend, and with one smooth grip to Fenris’ arm and hip, his mind blanked for the next hour.

By the time he rose his hands from his face again, the moon had replaced the sun, and all of Skyhold was washed in a ghostly pale. When had the dream began and ended?

A strong lithe arm wrapped over his bare chest and he flinched, eyes wild for a solid 5 seconds before his mind uncoiled. His lungs relaxed and took in air. He slowly looked to his right, and there was his beloved, gorgeously nude, and relaxed, sleeping, drooling, as if it weren’t the end of days.

He raised a shaky hand and pushed back white strands. He felt the warmth, and felt his breath. This was not a dream. No, not this time. Not a trick of his mind from nights of loneliness, malnutrition, and stress. Fenris was there, and couldn’t have come at a better time.

“Fenris...?”  
  
The elf’s eyes opened, the snoring stopped short, and Hawke was rewarded with that handsome, sleepy, smile.  
  
“Good morning.”


End file.
